Stonebrook Cottage
things, sometimes for reasons only they understand. The important thing right now is to find them."
    "They have to be all right," Kara said, half under her breath. She withdrew a small stack of postcards and letters from her handbag. "The kids wrote to me from camp up north earlier this summer, then from the dude ranch. Lillian more than Henry. She got me to read the Harry Potter books."
    Sam had seen them stacked on Kara's nightstand.
    She shoved the stack of letters and cards at her brother. "Here. Go through these. Maybe there's something I missed, some clue as to what they're up to. If you find anything, tell me, and I'll call Allyson."
    Jack took the cards and letters. "Do you think they'll come to you?"
    "How? They don't know where I live, they have no transportation—"
    "They have your address."
    "But they're kids. "
    Jack and Sam exchanged glances. Kids were capable of a lot. Sam said, "Do they know how to get in touch with you?"
    She nodded, not looking at him. "I gave them all my phone numbers when I dropped them off at the ranch."
    Ellen returned with the water, her dark eyes huge as she handed the glass to her aunt. "You don't think someone snatched them, do you, Sam? The Stock-wells are rich, and Henry and Lillian have been in the news because their mother's a woman governor and so young—"
    Kara gasped, though, Sam knew, it had to be something she'd considered on her drive south to San Antonio. "Ellen, no one…I'm sure they haven't been kidnapped."
    Jack slung an arm over Ellen's shoulders. She was strongly built, a rugby player with a big heart. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," her father said, the professional in him taking over. "Kids sneak off from camp from time to time. They didn't like lunch, they're homesick, they're mad at some other kid. Henry and Lillian are probably emotionally volatile right now. It's still not too late for them to turn up on their own tonight."
    Kara sipped her water and let her gaze drift to Sam, and she asked tensely, "Did Zoe West call you?"
    Her brother's eyes flashed with suspicion, and Sam knew the question was Kara's way of giving him permission to do what he planned to do, anyway. He saw Susanna wince, confirming what he already sus-pected—that she knew that something had happened between Kara and Sam at the Gordon Temple opening.
    "Who's Zoe West?" Jack asked his sister. "Why would you know anyone who'd call Sam?"
    Sam decided to get straight to the point. "Zoe West is a detective in Bluefield, Connecticut. She's doing a little solo investigating of Governor Parisi's death. She called me this afternoon."
    Jack's arm dropped from Ellen's shoulder, and he straightened, drawing himself up to his full height. Behind him, Susanna sat on an armchair and exhaled, as if she'd been waiting for this particular shoe to drop. Maggie stayed at her aunt's side, Ellen next to her father. Jack kept his eyes on Sam.
    "She was checking my story," Kara said.
    Jack turned to her, his eyes steel. "What story?"
    "Allyson Stockwell called me at the Gordon Temple opening and told me about Big Mike's death. I didn't say anything to Sam about it, but he sensed something was wrong. We went out for coffee." She untwisted her hands, some of the renewed color going out of her cheeks. "This heat. I don't know if I'll ever get used to it again."
    Her brother didn't let up. "Kara, why would Zoe West want to know where you were when you heard about Parisi?"
    "She's not convinced his death was an accident. If it was murder—well, whoever did it presumably would need to know he couldn't swim."
    Jack hissed through clenched teeth, understanding the implication of what his sister was saying, just as Sam had when he'd heard it from the Bluefield detective. "Jesus Christ. You knew?"
    Kara nodded. "He told me several years ago. It was his one secret."
    "Detective West doesn't like the injured-bluebird theory," Sam said.
    Susanna rose, gesturing to her daughters. "Let's try that new gadget that makes

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